


Her

by daphnerunning



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Genderfuck, Masturbation, Mindfuck, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar hates her, so they punish each other. </p><p>(also available in Russian)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translation available at: http://ficbook.net/readfic/2672221 by Miriam-Lee!

Oscar hates her.

 

“Ahh! Feels—f-feels good.”

 

His fingers splay over her thighs, wrenching them apart, loving the way she gasps. “You like this,” he purrs, walking a couple fingers up, closer, over the milky-white flesh. “You like it when I touch you.”

 

“Y-yes.” Her voice is breathy, low, hungry. “I—I need it, please!”

 

“You want _him_ to touch you like this.”

 

“N-no! I wouldn’t—”

 

“ _I_ do.” His eyes flare, burning bright as his hands roam higher, up until he can feel the artery pulsing beneath his fingertips. “Want him to spread you open. Want him to touch you, make me moan, fuck you until I’m screaming.”

 

She’s whimpering now, trembling under his touch. She arches her back, dark hair spilling onto the pillow, breath coming faster as the heat rises in her cheeks. “Please…don’t torture me any more. Need—”

 

“Him.”

 

“Yes!”

 

It makes him shiver all over, to hear it aloud. He breathes the name as he sinks his fingers in, letting the syllables fall off his tongue like a prayer. “Zenigata…”

 

His fingers are busy under the skirt, plunging in deep, drawing whining, needy moans from her throat. God, he’s hard.

 

Chanting the Inspector’s name always makes him _harder_.

 

“Want him,” she sobs, bucking down on his hand, and it feels so good he won’t even need to touch his cock. “Need him, _god_ —”

 

It’s her fault for not being perfect—for not having large, full breasts like Fukijo Mine—for not having a slick wet cunt—for not being _right_ , for not being the kind of thing Inspector Zenigata could ever love.

 

So he punishes her. He digs the fingernails of his other hand into her thigh, makes her cry out as he adds another finger, thrusting brutally hard inside her, making her squeal. “He could never love you,” he snarls. “Never. You’re not worthy of him. Filthy pig slut.”

 

“Not even a good enough filthy pig slut,” she purrs, and her smile turns sharp, mocking, evil. “He’ll never even want _me_ —ahhh! Hurts—”

 

He _hates_ her.

 

Hates her enough that he yanks at her hair, and _shit_ , it falls off, and he’s left yanking on his own hair, sobbing as his fingers drive in, not enough, not _him_ , even as Oscar whimpers his name over and over again, a curse, a blessing, hungry and needing and _desperate_ —

 

He comes all over himself, all over the skirt bunched around his waist, thighs spread and trembling as he keeps fucking himself, harder when he’s too sensitive, deliberately making it _hurt_. “I hate you,” he hisses, alone in the cold room, shaking in the aftereffects of his orgasm.

 

He’d thought she could save him, could be so good, so convincing, that the Inspector would _have_ to see he was worthy, _have_ to see that he was good enough.

 

She was good, convincing those schoolgirls to do as she said, convincing that spittoon to kiss, to hold, to caress lovingly. She was so good.

 

Just not good enough.

 

So he rips off the wig, strips off his clothes and tosses them into the fire, watching them burn to ash.

 

If she’s not good enough for the Inspector, she deserves to die.


End file.
